Standing out in the crowd
by silvereyed angel
Summary: the jonas brothers are used to crowds and love them, but what happens when Nick finds this one girl, that's standing out in said crowd? story for the awesome chibiyugixyami
1. she's what she is

_**This is an idea that came to me a while ago, I think it's kind of cute and I work on it from time to time when I need a brake from my other stories (If you read Dancing on Water you know how intense it is, believe me, writing it is even more) and I thought it was time for you to read it..  
I used the name of a very good friend of mine (only first name), but changed her appearance…**_

_**  
DISCLAIMER: I don't own the Jonas brothers, really don't… I don't even own my characters name! But I do own the plot and the song 'let me know' woot…**_

let's go on with the story of Arabell, Arie and the day in witch she stood out in the crowd…  
Enjoy,  


"_PLEASE! Please __go to the Jonas brothers concert with me!" my niece Macy begged. "Please Arie, pwease?"  
"Macy, no, not the puppy-dog face." I whined, trying to hide my face behind my hands.  
_

"_Please Arabell! You gave me the ticket's for my birthday, the least I can do is take you to it!" Macy told me, showing me the ticket's I knew all too well again.  
"Can't Stella go with you?" I said, realising I was only delaying my agree.  
"She has to be backstage remember?" Macy smiled, knowing she was winning.  
I nodded. "Right, stylist, but Macy…"_

"Please! Please! Please!"

great, now she was pouting! Believe me, there isn't anything more convincing, something more adorable then Macy Misa pouting!

"Macy, I've got a job, I have to work that evening and…"  
"you can take a night off, you never took a night off ever before, or you could come in after. The concert only ends a little bit later then your shift begins!"  
I sighed and Macy beamed. "Okay, I'll go with you, but I won't enjoy it!" I threatened, but Macy wasn't listening anymore. Instead, she was dancing through the living room, yelling: "Yay! Yay! Yay! Yay! Yay!"

Eventually even I couldn't hold my serious face and laughed at her.  
"You're crazy, Macy Misa!" I said.  
"You should be more crazy Arabell C. Misa!" 

' '  
  
And, that's how I came here. Standing in front of a HUGE stadium with lots, and I mean lots, of hyperly talking fans in front of it. I was leaning against some fountain opposite of it  
Seriously, how can people scream like that and not run out of breath?  
Right now, Macy for example, was yelling in my ear. "Isn't this exciting!?"  
I slowly turned my head towards her. Said: "Not really, sorry." And turned my attention back to my notebook.  
I knew that was hard, but Macy didn't mind, she knew all to well that I _really_ disliked being in a crowd.

Suddenly, said crowd started screaming, because on the street that separated me and Macy from the crowd, drove a large bus with and even larger 'JONAS' logo painted on the sides.

"AAAH! It's them." Macy yelled, almost fainting.

"Macy, you see these guys everyday in your school. Why are you so excited?"

"Because it's _them!_"

I rolled my eyes and went back to my notebook and my unfinished song, not paying attention to the bus.

I didn't notice until later, we were suddenly closed in on all sides by fans surrounding the bus. I just tried to not run away and disappoint Macy, I _was_ doing this for her, so I kept my attention fixed on my notepad.

' '

Hours later we were finally standing _inside _the stadium. Waiting for the show to begin. Luckily for Macy and unfortunately for me, I had gotten her beautiful places for her birthday. Not in the front crowd (thank god) but on a higher level, still close enough to see the show perfectly, but not close enough to gather some of their rock star-sweat. Though Macy probably would've minded that.

I really loved Macy to pieces, that was why I was here and I honestly don't dislike people, normally I'm very social, but this crowd made me very, very nervous.

At least up here, we had a little bodily space. The fans down below probably would get bruises from other jumping fans.

All together, it wasn't _that_ bad. I heard some of them Jonas-brothers music and I understood why Macy liked it so much. It was really good, the lyrics especially.  
"It's starting, they're coming!" Macy shrieked in my ear, holding on to my arm rather tightly.  
"I know Mace, please let go of my arm, it will ruin my _fun_." I told my older niece, wincing.

As she released me, laughing, I noticed she was right. The lights were dimming and the music started.  
I braced myself. Here we go; I thought and tried to tie my attention to the lyrics of the song I was writing.  
I only promised Macy to go with her, not to actually like it. She knew that and didn't mind.  
She was just screaming and yelling "how wonderful" the guitarist, Kevin? was.  
_Let me know… when you find out  
Let me know… when they finally see.  
I don't want to live a shallow life  
I want to be me_  
Yeah, that's good… Maybe now a C accord and...

' '

Nick PoV

I could honestly say I was used to crowds by now. Screaming, yelling and well, loving us. I could also honestly say, I loved the crowd. All of our fans were so incredible, intense and supportive.

Today, suddenly and completely out of the blue, someone was standing out in that crowd.  
Usually, when people come to our concerts, they like us, yes? Girls scream and fans try to get a better view at us when we arrive somewhere. It's cute and it always gives us a boost.  
This girl didn't, not at all; she didn't even seem to notice what was going on. She had just stood there, against a fountain, looking similar to the marble statues on the fountain. Not only because she was standing rather still in comparison to the fans –heck, even in comparison to the statues— but also because, well, she was really pretty.  
I shook my head and turned away from the bus-window. I figured she was just in the wrong place at the wrong time.

Later on, standing on stage, rocking my head off, I saw her again. She was standing on the lowest balcony, next to a girl I recognized as Macy Misa, Stella's and our friend from school.  
And once again, the girl was paying no attention to us.

I was surprised when I had noticed her through the window of the bus and I had been too occupied with her face back then to notice what she was looking like.

She was wearing dark skinny jeans, a white T-shirt saying: I love cookies with a black jacket covering it. I couldn't see her feet, but I was sure she wasn't wearing heels.  
Long blonde hair fell over her shoulders, covering her face, because she was looking down and… writing something?  
Occasionally she talked to Macy, who was play-backing all of our songs, but besides that, she just seemed very calm in a very excited crowd, weird.

I wanted to know why, even weirder.  
So in the pause, I decided to go and talk to her.  
The weirdest and coolest thing of that evening.

''—''—''—''—''—''  
Arabell PoV

Okay, admitted, the concert wasn't bad. It was actually pretty good. Like I said, I really appreciated the music they performed.

It was pause now and luckily, the crowd had moved from the stadium a little, to the entrance halls. Getting food and JONAS merchandise. So I sat here, pretty happy, one foot dangling from the balcony edge. I almost finished my new song! Nobody had squished me into Arabell-pulp and I wasn't deaf. Yet.  
Yay me… or something in that direction.

Suddenly, something caught my attention. Something that didn't belong here, because, well, it belonged on the stage.  
It was that guy from the Jonas Brothers. Rick? No, wait, Nick.  
He walked on the balcony, looking at it curiously. No wonder, he had never been here.  
He was probably interested in what the fans were seeing. I noticed these brothers were rather fond of their fans.  
Still, he didn't really_ look _like a rock star checking out the fans point of view. He looked more like a person, _who was walking straight towards me…_  
Suddenly, a brilliant line to finish my song entered my head and I instinctively turned back to my notepad. Writing it down at a speed no one could follow.

"Hello." A warm voice, reminding me of a warm summer evening (cliché?) suddenly said.  
I looked up, already knowing who was talking to me. Once again, I was right, like I had been right when I said Macy should stop piling her CD's because one day, they would fall over.

It was the Nick-guy. Man, Macy didn't overdo it. His eyes _really_ had the colour of chocolate. His black hair really did curl nicely around his, rather handsome, face.  
I realised he was probably wanting an answer.  
"Hi, you're the R-Nicholas guy, right." I said, my curiosity clearly visible in my voice. Did I mention Misa's had the strange habit of talking too much when they're nervous?

"Yeah, that's me. Just Nick actually. Though that isn't hard to guess, my face is on every inch of this stadium."  
I laughed. Cute guy, with sarcastic humour, right, and now you're going to tell me he actually likes me and not just wondering why I'm still here when everybody's eating like normal everybody's should.  
"I don't seem to know who you are" he said. Sitting down on the dirty ground besides me.

Okay, you're kidding me.

"I'm Arabell, Arabell Misa." I told him. Hugging my notepad to my chest. "Macy calls me Arie." I smiled. Putting my pencil behind my ear.

I think I preferred the crowd. At least the crowd got me uncomfortable. _He_ got me _nervous._

"What's that?" He asked me, rolling up the sleeves of his leather jacket, pointing his now clearly visible muscled arm at my notepad.

"That's my notebook. It's a thing you write in."  
He laughed; he had a nice laugh, warm and cosy.  
"I know, but what I don't know is what you write in it."

I released the notepad from my hug and gave it to him. He read and read, flipped the page and read that too.  
Eventually, he stopped and looked at me. "Wow, you're good. Are you writing a book?"  
I looked back at the stadium. Resting my head against the iron bars of the fence that kept the fans from falling down.  
"Not really, I just like writing in general. I write stories, songs, poems."  
He smiled. "That's pretty cool. I write songs too. Can you sing one for me?"

I thought he was supposed to be the serious, laid back one?

"I well…" I started.  
Then, he did something that messed with everything I was thinking.  
He pleaded with his eyes, softly smiling and was it possible to melt on the inside…?

He really looked at me expectantly. So I figured I didn't really have much of a choice.

"Why is it  
that people never listen  
when the most important things get spoken  
why is it

That we humans never seem to care

When our precious things get broken

let me know, when you find out  
let me know, when you finally see  
I don't want to live a shadow life  
I wanna be me

cause when you  
let your soul touch  
anything, anyone that cares  
you can get to anyone, anywhere  
cause when you  
see the beauty we live in  
the joys that are given

you finally can

Let me know, that you found out  
let me know, that you finally see, it's true  
we live such a shadow life  
when you're not you"

I stopped, slightly embarrassed. He just stared at me. Something that made me even more nervous visible in his brown eyes.  
"You've got a nice voice, you know that? It's not perfect, but it has a kind of pureness to it and the lyrics are good." He told me sincerely. Staring at my notepad, reading again.

I smiled at him; I really loved to hear that, especially from someone like him. Because of his musical history of course…

"Macy will kill me when she finds out I talked to you like this and didn't even get you're autograph." I sighed, already bracing myself for the blow up of: 'you talked and sang with Nick of Jonas?!'

He laughed his warm laugh again. It made me feel the breeze in the stadium less and less. "We wouldn't want that now would we?" He said. Definitely not taking it for a cheap request for his autograph.  
"I should get down. Macy will probably be too occupied with fan-club talk to eat something. It would be really sad if she fainted during her birthday-present." I said to Nick, standing up. He did too and leaned against the fence.  
"Good luck." He said. Did he seem sad?

"I'll need it, you good luck there too, on stage I mean."  
Then I walked away, I didn't really know why. Macy wouldn't be hurt by skipping her sugar-boost in this particular concert and it's not like she hasn't fainted before. She was perfectly capable of handling that.

It also wasn't like I didn't like talking to him. He was actually pretty nice. For a rich superstar that is.  
I couldn't help but giggle as I walked away, feeling his eyes in my back.

'__________________________'  
later that evening, still Arabell PoV

"Thank you for going with me Arie!" Macy said for the thousandth time that evening. I laughed.  
"That's okay Mace. We Misa's have to help each other right?"  
She smiled back and we did the little handshake thing we copied from our favourite TV show when we were kids.  
"Can you give me my apron?"  
"Witch one?" She asked, looking around while tucking some of her black hair behind her ears.  
"The black one, it goes with the uniform and it says 'Malcini's'."  
Macy handed me the apron, it was black, like the rest of my uniform except my blouse. The uniform was far from what I usually wore, but I would deal with the skirt, blouse and the worst. Heels...

"Macy?" I asked.  
"Yeah?" She said, smiling as if still in heaven.  
"I think I actually had some fun today. Especially with you."  
She laughed really big now, if that were possible. "Me too, but isn't that always the case?" she told me.  
"Absolutely!"  
Then we both laughed as Macy tied my apron and looked at the clock. "You should go, you promised to be there at half past ten."

"Thanks Macy! For this _and _the night." I said, putting my notepad in the bag around my hips and kissing Macy on her cheek.  
"Then I'll see you tomorrow. Our moms have another photo-album party; it's at your place this time."  
"It's a date!"  
"Pick you up at seven!"  
We both giggled again. Macy had always been one of my best friends, because I had known her for all my life. Our moms were twins and really close and so were we. Though we didn't look like each other. Quite the opposite actually. Macy was toned and had black hair. While my skin was rather pale and my hair was dark blond. In opposite to our looks, our characters had a lot of things similar. Like the love for sport, music and the clumsiness.  
"Don't stand there dreaming, you'll ruin our evening by getting fired!" Macy told me. Trying to be the responsible older one.  
"Okay, bye!"  
Macy was supposed to take 'care' of me tonight. Since our moms were out too. Some national sailing championship.  
"That Melanie kid brings you home right?"  
"Yes mom!" I told Macy sarcastic. "Relax, it's just boring work. It's easy, safe and yes, Mel brings me home."  
I ran to the door, I was really running late.  
"Arie? Your guitar?" Macy said, laughing.  
I almost tripped over the umbrella stand as I ran upstairs, grabbed my guitar and then ran out of the house. I had to do something in my breaks and during calm periods.

Eventually I made it to the restaurant.  
"Buona sera Ragazza!" my boss, Mr. Malcini said in his usual cheerful bass.  
"Good evening Mr. Malcini. Sorry I'm late, but…" I began explaining.  
"You went out and chad fun, that's good belle ragazze should have fun and not always work." Mr Malcini interrupted me, waving away my excuses.  
"Yeah, you're right Mr. Malcini. But I'm still going to work now." I joked with him while grabbing my calculator and purse, getting ready for an evening of Italian food servings.

"Hey Arie!" Melanie, my highly make-upped co-worker said as I served two pizza's to a young couple. Something that obviously wouldn't last long.  
"Hey Mel! Before you ask, my evening was great, how was yours?"  
"Great, I had a hottie at seven and they say we'll be having some celebrities tonight. I'm super excited!" Melanie swept her blond dyed hair out of her face  
"wonder who gets to serve them. I'd love to flirt with a celebrity."  
I sniffed, yeah flirt with a celebrity. Not with a person, of course not.  
"Don't worry honey!" Mel said, embracing me. "If it's a young one, he's yours."  
"How do you know it's a guy?" I asked Mel. Tiding my blouse where she hugged me tightly.  
"I know that kind of stuff. Melanie senses, you know." She told me, slapping away my hands and pulling my blouse nice and tidy with her long violet nails. If I tried to have such nails, I'd break them as soon as I stepped out the door, but apparently, some people could handle that. Probably because they weren't cursed with the Misa clumsiness.

"Bambina's!" Mr Malcini suddenly said. Raising his hands in mock agony. "There are customer! Be nice and help them!"  
We laughed; Mel and I loved our boss. He was always very funny, but knew when to get serious. He was like the Italian uncle I never had.  
"Ooh, good looks coming in. He's way too old for you, so if you mind?" Mel told me, swinging her hips a little.  
"Sure. Be my gue..." Mel was already at the door, offering the very handsome looking guy her loving help. Almost ignoring the a bit intimidated girl next to the guy. I felt sorry for her.

"Lovely Arabella!" Mr Malcini said. Brushing his black moustache. "We, tonight, we have very importanto guests. You will be serving them, I trust you not to shame the name Malcini!"  
I laughed and he gave me a wink. "I would never shame your name Mr Malcini." I joked, half bowing for him.  
Mr Malcini shook his head and walked off roaring with laughter. I swear, Italian people, especially Italian chefs were awesome.

I went to the bar, Mel, Macy and Gregory; my other co-workers were taking care of the costumers we had tonight. Marc was Mel's brother, had natural honey-blonde hair and was very handsome in his own way.  
Gregory was the typical Goth who needed a job type of guy, but he was very nice. The others saw that too once they overlooked his dark image.  
It felt like the famous silence before the storm. In a few minutes it would be crowding outside with press and enthusiastic fans.  
I really hadn't counted on two crowds like that today, but seeing they weren't going to get inside (Mr Malcini was very convincing if he wanted to) I was going to be fine.

After a while I heard noise coming from outside the big restaurant and turned around, there was my job. I was wondering who the celebrity, correction _person with feelings_, was. We've had a lot of celebrities coming to the restaurant, because Mr. Malcini was famous for his delicious Italian food, but I was curious anyway.  
"Here we go again, it's so pointless. "A dull voice said from the other side of the bar.  
"Oh, come on Gregory, I don't like it either, but it's not that bad." I answered, recognising the voice of my gothic friend. His hair was as usual black, though there was a white streak in it today, he looked like Sweeney Todd.  
"Things are always bad."

Should've listened to him, it was bad.

I saw the flashing of cameras and the shouting of the paparazzi. Jeez, the people were going to eat, how interesting.  
I grabbed my pencil so I would be ready to take orders and walked towards the door. What were those blood sucking paparazzo's yelling?

"Over here boys! – Give me a nice shot of that raven hair – they say you've got a new girlfriend Nick, is that true – Joe! Joe over here!"

I stiffed in mid-stride. Nick… Joe… The Jonas Brothers, seriously?  
Just your luck, Arie, just your luck…

**Like I said, I work on this when I feel like it, so updates are less frequently then Dancing on Water and my other running stories, but reviews always inspire me, so feel free to try…**

**Love, silver**


	2. she was what she was

**Second part of standing out in the crowd and yes, I am obsessed with ****dedicate fics right now, bare with me.  
This one –points to screen below- is for Chibiyugixyami, because she's just awesome!  
Arabell is based on her, so ya all go love her!  
Or just enjoy the chapter…! **

I ran towards the back of the restaurant and saw Mel walking towards me, looking quite disappointed. _Sad for her, but great for me… _

"Hey Mel, how'd your 'older hottie' go?" I asked, rushed. Looking back to the door, they hadn't come in yet.  
"Not good… why are you so interested?"  
"You want to flirt with celebrities?"  
"Why…?" she asked suspicious, grabbing some glasses to fill, as we had arrived back at the bar.  
"Well, I um…" I stuttered, I hadn't come up with a proper excuse yet.

She rolled her eyes at me. "Oh _please!_ Arie!" she grabbed my wrist and pulled me towards the entrance, where some bodyguards stood waiting for their protectieves.

"You don't understand!" I argued, trying to break free from her iron grip. "I talked to one of them tonight, it's the JONAS BROTHERS! I can't serve them now! Please take over my shift Mel! I'll owe you forever." I was practically begging now, great…

She gave me a last push towards the door, where familiar dark hair and male-fasionable clothes just walked in.  
"Oh yeah, you'll owe me big time. For this!" with that, Mel left, ignoring my glare at her.

I took a deep breath and walked towards the three boys and some other people standing next to them.  
"Hello, welcome to Malcini's." I said, not even pretending to be enthusiastic. "I'm Arabell and I will be your server tonight, how would you like to sit?"

The two brothers I hadn't met smiled at me. _Gosh, did every celeb have such white teeth?  
_Nick, who had been looking back, turned around swiftly. He stared at me for a moment, frown on his face. Recognition in his eyes. The brown orbs darted to my note-pad, securely in my bag-pocket.

"A table for…" Joe started counting. "Seven, please."  
_Oh, mannered too…_

"Follow me, please." I said, turning around, I knew where to bring them, the Luna-Lounge. The moon-room.

I tried to ignore the annoying stares Nick kept giving me as I guided them into the Moon-room.

It truly was our best and most beautiful room, I always instantly felt calm when entering, because of the soft blue and silver colouring. Me and my co-workers always hung out here in our pauses (making sure to leave it spot-perfect when leaving, Mr. Malcini knew, but didn't mind as long as it was cleaned up afterwards) The chairs and benches were amazingly soft and comfortable, imagine sitting on a cloud, then you'll get it…  
The brothers and their groupies (band, I don't really know, you'd have to have another Misa for that) seemed to really appreciate the room.

"Here are our menu's, take your time picking." I said, handing them our sand-coloured menu's as they all sat down and took off their coats.  
I noticed again that even off-stage they were dressed really good. The oldest, Melvin? Was wearing a white V-neck and expensive looking shoes. The flat-haired one, Joe, wore an equally white dress shirt plus boots and Nick was also wearing a white T-shirt, but with a black jacket covering most of it. On his feet were less expensive looking sneakers.  
They all were wearing tight, pitch black skinny's.

Even in my uniform, witch was kind of chic, I felt underdressed.

"Can I get you something now?" I continued asking. "Something to drink or filled bread?"

They all smiled at me from their sitting positions, except for Nick, who kept staring at me weirdly. Hadn't he liked me this afternoon, or was that just me?  
Maybe he was weirded out by my uniform and uncharistic heels. Well, he'd just have to deal with that, it wasn't like I could help it.

"That'd be nice…"

I found the older brother, Kevin, his name is _Kevin_, chuckling at my bewildered expression.

"We'd like something to drink and the bread sounds nice." He clarified.  
_Definitely polite… _

"yes sir, take your time in choosing." I said and walked away, once again stared after by Nick…  
_what the hell was his problem?_

Nick PoV

Okay, maybe it wasn't fair to her that I was staring at her like that, but I honestly couldn't help it.  
I was glad to see her and angry at her at the same time, was that even possible?  
Our conversation this afternoon had been replayed and replayed over and over in my head. Like annoying and incredibly cute bees.

"Dude, you like her?" Kevin asked suddenly.  
"No." I answered shortly, still staring at the door where she just walked out.  
From the corners of my eyes I saw my brothers sharing a 'yeah, right' look.  
"I do not like her, I hardly know her." More like l…

"wait a sec… blonde hair, carrying a note-pad, heart shaped face witch doesn't rhyme with beautiful… Is she?"  
"Just shut up Joe." I snapped, I really didn't like what was happening.  
"Chill dude, only sayin'…"  
"Don't."

With that they stopped talking and I got lost in my own thoughts again.

I knew I was rude, my brothers didn't deserve that, but I was really annoyed by this crap. Why was this girl special? Why her? What the hell had she done to me?

I sighed as she walked in with the drinks Kevin had ordered and a plate with delicious looking Italian bread.  
Before putting it down in front of us, she shot me a weird look I answered with a scowl.

After taking our choices –I just picked the first thing on the list— she left with a confused and possibly _hurt?_ Look on her pretty-face.

I wish I had my guitar, so I could make this rotten feeling into a song and be done with it… If only I could… but thanks to her, I couldn't.  
I couldn't catch her, didn't get her, didn't see her essence like with all the others. She was a mystery to me…

"Nick, be nice to Arabell, she's very kind to us. At least stop scowling, whatever's going on, I'm sure it will work out." Kevin said, trying to reassure me.

Sure Kev, pick _now_ to make sense.

'Arabell' soon returned with our food, carrying all of them at the same time, succeeding in being somewhat graceful.  
I shot her a glance, something the fans called my 'intense look', trying to get what fascinated me so much about her and then it happened.

She tripped…

I heard the clatter of the plates, them breaking on the hard floor as she fell down in the sharp, broken fragments.

"Shit…" Joe muttered before they all ran over to her.  
"Are you okay?" Kevin asked, helping her up as I still sat frozen in my chair.  
"Yeah, yeah, I'm okay." She said, looking at me. "I'm, I-… fine."  
Kevin looked at her concerned. "I don't think so." He told her, turning her arm around.

I felt nausea rising as I saw the blood dripping from her forearm.  
_Had I caused this?_

**Arabell PoV**

Damn the Misa clumsiness. Damn those sharp edges of the damned dirty plates and damn you Nick Jonas, with your damned intense glare.  
I felt the sting of the porcelain in my skin, blood dripping out of the three wounds on my forearm. "Ouch…" I said in wonder and I swear I saw Nick smiling from the corners of my eye…

"Come on, let's bring you back." The voice of the helpful older brother said, softly helping me back to my feet.  
"Thanks." I muttered, smiling at him. At least he wasn't rude, like his younger, curly haired, damn gorgeous, annoying brother….

"Don't worry, we'll help cleaning. Nick? Why don't you bring her to wherever the first-aid kit is? You know your way with bandages."

Apparently, he was also very cheeky, setting me up with Nick like that. He probably had noticed the strange tension.  
"How can I not, with a brother like Joe?" Nick answered, but still rose from his chair, where he hat sat the whole time.

"Come on." He said, not even trying to help me, but instead walking straight towards the exit.

Eventually I was the one bringing us to the first aid kit. Because he, for well known reasons, didn't knew the way to it.  
"It's okay; go back to your brothers and groupies. I can take it from here, I'm used to injuries." I told him, I probably bored him to numbness.

"I am not leaving you, you're injured." He stubbornly said, grabbing the first-aid kit before I could even reach for it.  
"Come on, sit down. Can you stretch your arm? Like that." He said, obviously having done this before. I think I had heard Macy talk about Joe being somewhat clumsy…

"OUCH! Watch where you put those tweezers!" I yelled, pain shooting through my arm.  
"Why don't you just sit still, so I can get those infected pieces out?" He shot back angrily, swinging his black curls out of his face.

I winced again, as he poked my painful flesh. "Watch it." I growled.  
"Stop bugging me! I can't concentrate!" he snapped.

Why did I get the feeling it wasn't just about the wounds anymore?

"Okay, seriously, what is your problem?" I asked, pulling my throbbing hand out of his. Even though the air felt cold without his warm hands. It were just three little cuts, nothing worse then what I was used to.

He glared at me, something unidentified in his eyes. "What is _my_ problem? What is _yours_ is a better question."

I huffed. "I'm not the one glaring at me for no reason, first acting nice and then watching me like I'm dirt… Doing absolutely nothing when I fell because of you!" I stood up now, untying my apron and throwing it onto a shelf where I left my other stuff earlier. The small closet we were currently standing in, something mr. superstar probably wouldn't like, was usually used for us to change or store things away. The grey wall almost invisible because of the shelves and all the crap that was on it.

"You're blaming that on me? I just looked at you and you start to go all clumsy, I thought you didn't care about my attention, but you're probably an obsessive stalker again." He semi-shouted. Knowing he was crossing lines here.

"Me! An obsessive stalker? I'm probably the only sane person that has been to your stupid concert in years!" I yelled back, grabbing my purse (yeah I have a purse).

"I don't know what it is with you, but you're not right!" He screamed.

We were standing directly in front of each other now, both panting from rage. His face was a scowl; mine was probably red from angriness.

"Oh, now I'm not right? Tell me, what's so not right about talking to you, I showed you my note-pad, one of my most private possessions, we sat and sang and had a little fun. What's so weird about that?" I asked, my teeth clanked together.

"Do you really want to know?" He hissed.  
"Obviously…"

"Fine! The weird thing is that ever since I was little, I wrote songs, when I was sad, happy, in love. Usually when something like this happens, talking to someone different, a beautiful girl like you, nothing like anything I've ever seen. I write a song about it. A number one hit." He said. More then just rage in his brown eyes now, I couldn't quite identify it, but I could care less.

I raised an eyebrow. "So?" I replied coldly.

"This time I can't!" he snarled. "I can't come up with a single line! Nothing can describe you, you're elusive! I have a bloody writers-block because of you! I always write songs about everything. Everything I do, everything that gets stuck in my head, I get it out through my music, but with you. I just can't. _That_ is what's weird. I can't write a song about you!"  
H crossed his arms, staring at me with pained eyes and all I could do was open my mouth to say something, but no words came out.

"You have been bugging me all afternoon. Meeting you was so great and I expected to write a really nice song about you, because I thought _you _were really nice and then, I just can't. You messed with my head; you made me all weird and stuck, okay? Do you have any idea how scary that is for me?!" he continued.

"Not really." I replied, my stomach tightening. Why did this stuff always happen to me?

"No, you don't, you don't understand a thing." He said, looking away.

"Fine, whatever, I'll just leave and you can go on with your stupid rock star life." There were tears in my eyes, I could feel them. "I'll just disappear again, okay. Problem solved, if you hate me so much…"

Heated tears ran over my cheeks, I didn't know what exactly about him hit me so hard, I only knew it hurt. Blaming _me_ for his problems after I though we had something, something. I didn't even wanted to understand anymore.  
I just grabbed my guitar and ran, far, far away from Nick Jonas.

Nick PoV

I just stood there as she ran past me, tears still fresh on her cheeks, god I hated those tears. Not because I hated her, like I had been implying for the last few minutes, but because I caused them. For no reason.  
Damn was I a fool…

I swallowed and turned around before a certain black object caught my attention. _Her purse_…  
I grabbed it and I don't know how long I stood there until I made my decision.

The decision between if she was worth it or not…  
The answer was very simple…

**Review please!**


	3. and now she's mine

**This story is dedicated to chibiyugixyami, an awesome girl!  
I do not own Jonas, obviously and I don't even own Arabell, obviously.  
I do own the plot though. And the song note-pad at the end :)…  
enjoy, **

* * *

**Nick PoV**

"Nick! Nick!" Joe yelled as I rushed out of the restaurant. "Come back here, what are you doing?!"

I didn't listen and just fought my way through the paparazzi.

"What happened Nick?"  
"Can you stand still for a minute?"  
"Once second Nick, our viewers have questions."

And so on and so on. They even followed me, but I'm not three points shy of a genius for nothing…

So I lost them, somewhere in a dark alleyway. Okay, I ran away until they lost track at me. Still counts.

In the alley, I sunk down till I was sitting against the particular dirty wall. I looked at the purse, praying there would be a clue to where she lived in there as I opened it.  
I was a lucky guy. Her wallet was in there, an address scribbled down on the inside. I even found her keys!  
I smiled, something to see very rare on my face, but becoming very common when I was thinking of her…  
What was it with that girl that she kept changing my habits…?

I stuffed everything back into the purse, ran my hands through my hair and walked out the alleyway. Whistling.

**Arabell PoV**

I arrived at my apartment, tears, witch were so rare to me, still streaming down my face. I wanted to grab my keys out of my purse and cursed.  
_I left my purse at the restaurant and there was NO way that I was going back now!_

"Mom!" I yelled, punching the door, harder then I had to.  
Surely enough, my mom opened the door, very surprised. "Honey, you're early, what's…?" She began, but I stormed past her without answering.  
I ran to my room, my mom shouting: "Arabell! Arie! Come back here. What are you doing!?" Behind me.  
I slammed my bedroom-door closed, kicked of my heels and threw myself on my bed.  
I didn't want to cry, not over this guy I barely knew. Not over this guy I barely had a crush on.

_Talking about impossible celebrity-crushes._

"Honey, are you okay? What happened?" My mom asked, through the door, smart enough not to open it.  
"Please go away mom, I don't want to talk."  
She left after that and I went back to sob into my fireball the pony-pillow.  
Why did I cry over him? I barely knew him and he had been rude to me half the time I knew him!  
I had lived before Nick Jonas and I could damn well live after Nick Jonas.

_Then why is there that feeling saying you can't?_

Shut up, inside voice, I don't want to talk to you either.

_Why is there the feeling I wanted to know him, I wanted to cry over him_.

Seriously, shut up.

_Why is there the feeling of… love?_

I groaned, slamming a pillow into my face… "Aaarg!"

You. Are. Not. Falling. For. That. Writers. Block. Blaming. _Jerk!_

_Sorry to say so, but yes you are._

I threw the pillow away, it slamming against the wall across from me, throwing a few magazines from the shelves.  
Naturally one of them fell open on a Jonas-brothers poster.

"Damn, damn, damn, damn, damn." I cursed, letting my head fall over the edge of my two-persons and thus very big bed in the middle of my square room.

"Honey?" My mum asked again.

"Mwhjeah?" I said. Still observing the wall upside-down.

"I have to go to work, you sure you'll be fine?"

"Yes, I'm okay. I've been alone here before." I forced out of my throat. "Don't worry."

"Okay then, don't go sleeping too late!" She said. "Bye darling."

"Bye mom."

She left and I was once again home alone in our way to big apartment.  
I wasn't objecting though; my mom was a very successful doctor (thank god for clumsy me) she loved her job and made good money out of it, even if it meant annoying late-night shifts.

Eventually, I couldn't take it anymore. The thinking about a certain black-curled, brown eyed, lyric-genius, drop-dead gorgeous guy…

I reached out to my drawer and grabbed my phone, pressing speed dial.

"Hello?" came the sleepy voice on the other line.  
"Hey Macy, it's me." I said, slightly smiling. Until I remembered how he looked slightly smiling.

"What is it?" She said, catching up with me like she always did so fast.

"Your Jonas Brothers…"

"Huh?" Macy replied, obviously confused.

So I explained what happened to me this night. About my encounter with him in the stadium, them coming to the restaurant, his strange stares, my accident…

"Misa clumsiness?" Macy asked, knowingly.

"Strangely, no." I said, wondering about that myself, now that I had calmed down a bit. "It was just him, the way he looked at me, like he was angry and upset by me. I just lost my concentration."

"That's strange for you." She said. I heard some sound on the other side. Knowing she was grabbing something to eat from their fridge, the phone probably tucked between her ear and her shoulder.  
"I know, I have no Idea what was going on with him, but somehow we ended up in the store together. Him giving me first-aid."

"Okay. We're getting to it I believe."

"Yeah, well. We sorta got in a fight…" I explained, chewing my lip.

"Sorry? You got in a fight with Nick Jonas? One of the most controlling persons I know?"

"Yeah, he completely blew up on me."

Silence.

"You know me to well, okay; I kinda blew up on him too."

"Thank you. So what did you fight about?"

"About his weird behaviour and my falling down because of him."

"Doesn't really sound like a fight to me."

"He also blamed me for his writers block and bringing him out of balance. He even said he expected to write a hit about me and then suddenly he can't and he blames me for messing with his head. So I kinda said his concerts and songs were lame and then he told me I didn't understand it and… I don't know Macy, why does this hurt me so much?"

"Do you think you maybe… you know…" Macy tried, but I interrupted her.

"I do NOT have a crush on Nick!" I shouted through the phone. "I just want him to get of my mind and to…"

"Kiss you senseless?"

"Macy!"

"Sorry, sorry!" She laughed. "Hey, do you want me to come over with a big bowl of ice-cream?" She then asked apologetic and knowing exactly what I would need in such a moment. Still I declined.

"No thanks Macy, you did enough just by being there for me. That's more then he did." I said, smiling softly.

"Okay then, dancing and baking it is then?" she said, once again showing how well she knew me.

"Probably."

"Take care."

"Will do, bye…"

"See you."

We hung up and I threw my phone away, it landing softly on my blankets as I rose up and got changed, Macy was right; I should just go do what I always did when I was sad.

So I grabbed my Ipod, dressed in some sweat pants and a shirt and walked out of my room slowly. I connected the Ipod to the radio and put the volume rather high. (Thank god we had an apartment with sound-proof walls, thanks to my guitar and violin playing)

Then I went to the kitchen and grabbed some bowls.

Music and cookies it was.

**Nick PoV**

I walked toward the building the address described. My hands in my pocked, wondering why I was doing it again.

Right, because her pretty face stood out in the crowd, because she was so… unreachable and had hit me so hard, just by existing. Because I didn't wanted anything else then just to see her again, tell her just how much I loved her, already, through those little moments I had with her.  
If she didn't want me, it would be a sad song, but I could live with that.  
I didn't want to think about the other thing, that she might like me too. She had made perfectly clear she didn't like me, that she only came to hear my music because Macy forced her.

I walked up the stairs, to anxious to take the elevator.

I reached the door to her house and hesitantly grabbed the keys from her purse; grateful she wasn't like me and kept them in her pocket.  
I opened the door; witch was locked and let myself in. Still doubting if this was a good idea.

I stood in a quite large living room/kitchen in one. A pale wooden floor and big windows that, in day-light, would make this place big and full of light.

From somewhere at my right music played rather loud, witch explained why the girl in front of the kitchen-counter hadn't noticed me.

She was swaying her hips to the beat of Why says you can't go home. Sweat-pants low on her hips, dancing to it in an almost hypnotic way.

I smiled; it was utterly adorable to see. I let my took off my coat and softly laid it on a chair, along with my scarf and walked over to her.

I watched her as she worked on something, dancing while doing it and couldn't help but sneak my arms around her waist and singing the lyrics in her ear:

"Who says you can't go back, been all around the world and as a matter of fact. There's only one place I want to go. Who says you can't go home?"

She jumped and turned around, scared at first, but relaxing when she recognised me. Still pressed against me, her eyes wide, she asked the basic question:  
"What are you doing here?"

I smiled. "I came to bring you back your purse." I waved with said black object. "And to apologise."

She stared at me, kind of suspicious now. "Why? Why would _you _want to apologise to _me? _I thought you hated me?"

"I don't, how could I hate you. You're fascinating, the only reason I can't write a song about you is because you are such a mystery to me and I like that, in a way. It has never happened to me and it confirms what I thought before."

The music changed, to a song I knew very well. Turn right. Maybe she hadn't come just because of Macy after all.

I slightly started dancing to it, dragging her along a little. She smiled, dancing with me.

"Witch is?" She asked.

"That you stand out in the crowd." I answered, turning her.

"That's actually a good thing?"

"Of course it is, you're special, at least to me." I said, completely honest.

"Seriously?" An eyebrow was raised and I laughed.

"Seriously."

**Arabell PoV**

okay, heavy fairy-tale moment. But I was willing to take it, his eyes spoke nothing but truth and given, he looked really good in just the white shirt. He _danced_ with me and well, it was wonderful.

"You're quite amazing yourself." I said.

"Really."

"You snuck into my house after stealing my purse."

"I didn't steal it. You forgot it." He butted in.

"Shh. I mean, you made me fall down and okay, you made me cry."

"What… I."

"Shh." I hit him softly. "That's quite amazing to me."

He laughed again. "Not the amazing I was hoping for, but I can live with it."

Yeah, it was quite the fairy-tale night. Eventually we ended up on my bed, but not in the way you would think. Just talking, laughing and explaining what exactly had happened this night.

Eventually, he grabbed my guitar and improvised a song:  
**  
"**I don't know what came over me  
Because I'm not really sure what I see  
she's clumsy yet graceful  
She has the fire and is beautiful  
I never seem to get her  
but there's nothing better

She's a girl to figure out  
the one that stands alone in the crowd  
She's calm and wild and free  
She's everything to me  
I'm in love with the girl and her note-pad  
I'm in love at first glance, ain't it sad?

We screamed and we fought  
we sang and we laughed  
I'm hating the tears on her face  
I love the way she laughs with grace  
Nothing about her I seem to get  
She understands me perfectly and yet

She's a girl to figure out  
the one that stands alone in the crowd  
She's calm and wild and free  
She's everything to me  
I'm in love with the girl and her note-pad  
I'm in love at first glance, ain't it sad?

And now as I'm sitting here  
gone is all my fear  
of ever losing her  
I don't care that I don't get her,  
it's fine  
cause I know, she's mine

She's my girl to figure out  
My one that stands alone in the crowd  
She's calm and wild and free  
She's everything to me  
I'm in love with my girl and her note-pad  
I was in love at first glance, ain't it sad?"

When he was done, I told him: "You're amazing." And kissed him.

**~Fin~  
**

**I'm getting better with the fluff thing. Or am I?  
Well anyway, hope you enjoyed it! Love you! Bye bye. **


End file.
